


One Bed

by Obsession137



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Underage - Freeform, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsession137/pseuds/Obsession137
Summary: When Peter gets too drunk at a party and ends up crashing at Tony's in Tony's bed, it becomes excruciatingly hard for Tony to push away all the dirty thoughts and fantasies he's been having about his sixteen year old protege.





	One Bed

It wouldn’t be more than a simple touch. Not even that, a brief brush of fingertip against cheek. Nothing that would seem _off_ if Peter were to spontaneously open his eyes. Nothing that would make his spider-senses tingle. Nothing that would make Tony feel like the guilty old pervert he felt like most of the time he was around Peter. No. It was just a simple touch, and he wouldn’t feel bad about it.

But then why was he hesitating? Was this taking advantage? Peter had reluctantly let Tony drag him along to the party – parties weren’t really his thing – and when Peter had got there Tony had reluctantly allowed Peter to drink alcohol (even though he was only sixteen). _It’s only fair, Mr Stark, you’re the one who made me come here_, Peter had said. Tony had allowed him a few drinks. They were in Stark Tower, surrounded by the other Avengers. It wasn’t like Peter could do much damage.

What Tony hadn’t expected was for Peter to get shit-faced _drunk_ on two glasses of lemonade and vodka. After insisting that he was _fine_ and that Tony should let him go home, and then proceeding to fall flat on his face tripping over absolutely nothing, Peter had found himself getting dragged to Tony’s bedroom and tucked into Tony’s bed because _your Aunt will KILL me if she finds out I let you drink_. And that was that.

But now that all of the guests were gone, and Tony was dangerously close to the line between tipsy and drunk, his feelings were making an appearance.

He was stood over his bed, staring down at the sleeping form of his sixteen-year-old protégé who was bundled up under the covers. It was dark in Tony’s bedroom but the city lights outside lit the room up ever so slightly, so Tony could see Peter’s face. _His gorgeous, perfect little face_, Tony thought, swaying forwards a little. It was almost as though his body was trying to force itself closer to Peter, but his alcohol-soaked brain still had _some_ sense left in it, so his feet stayed rooted on the spot.

Tony’s eyes swept over Peter’s slightly-parted pink lips and all he could think about was how desperately he wanted to lean down and kiss them. He wondered what Peter’s lips would taste like. Probably vodka. Or lemonade. Or a mixture. But what if he hadn’t been drinking? What did Peter _actually _taste like? Tony wanted – no, scratch that – _needed_ to know. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, exhaling quietly. 

He needed to snap out of it. Alcohol and his forbidden thoughts of Peter were _not_ a good combination.

But then he was brought back to his initial thought. Touch. Tony craved it. Just to feel Peter’s soft skin, just _once_. He hesitantly leaned closer to Peter, reaching a hand out towards the boy’s relaxed face. 

He gently ran his thumb over Peter’s cheek. God, he felt so fragile, so pure, so out of Tony’s league. Peter’s mouth twitched up as Tony’s thumb caressed the area near the corners of his lips, and Tony’s breath hitched in his throat for a moment and he stilled. What if Peter woke up? _Shit_.

But Peter didn’t wake up. Tony exhaled and moved his hand away from Peter’s face, the loss of contact already making him feel empty and needy. 

“I love you, Kid,” Tony murmured, so quiet he could barely even hear his own voice. If he was ever going to get a chance to say it, it was now. Because there was absolutely no way in hell he’d ever be selfish enough to say those words while the boy was awake. He couldn’t ever do that to him – make him uncomfortable like that – make him have to hear that his mentor, his _father figure_, was thinking such disgusting and vile things about him. It’d be a secret Tony would take to the grave. But he’d just needed to say it this one time.

“Love you too.”

Tony froze up, eyes wide as he watched Peter’s face. His eyes were still shut. He still looked like he was fast asleep. It must have been sleep-talking. It _had_ to be. Even if it wasn’t, Tony couldn’t bring himself to say another word. He couldn’t. It would lead to awkward conversations and heartbreak and Peter inevitably wanting nothing to do with Tony, and the mere thought of losing Peter completely was terrifying.

So he turned around and he left the room as quietly as possible, not turning back to look at the love of his life. He’d sleep on the couch. He’d sleep on the couch and he’d try to forget that Peter Parker was lying in his bed and he’d said _love you too_. He’d forget that he wanted nothing more than to climb into bed _with_ Peter and wrap his arms around him. He’d forget that he wanted to pull Peter closer to his chest and kiss his perfect face anywhere his lips could reach. He’d forget he wanted to shove his tongue into Peter’s inexperienced mouth, and run his hands through Peter’s soft curls. He’d forget he wanted to run a hand over Peter’s hip and slip it underneath Peter’s shirt and feel his abdomen, his abs, his chest…

“Mr Stark? What time is it? What am I doing here?”

Tony sat up abruptly on the couch where he’d been lost in his thoughts, glancing over at Peter, who was standing in the doorway looking _fucking adorable_ and extremely sleepy. His hair was stuck up in all directions, all fluffy and cute. He had his arms wrapped around himself and his head was tilted slightly.

Tony was semi-hard, he’d been on the verge of letting his thoughts get _very_ dirty moments before Peter had walked into the room. He grabbed a cushion from next to him and covered his erection.

“It’s 2:20 in the morning, Kid,” Tony said softly. “You were pretty drunk, you slipped over and I told you that you’re staying here for the night. Don’t you remember?”

“Um…” Peter’s face twisted in confusion as he tried to recall what had happened, but his expression was still pretty blank and tired. “Don’t remember.”

_He’s begging to be shoved up against that wall and kissed all over_, Tony thought, swallowing hard and trying to keep his feelings in check.

“You should go back to bed,” Tony said finally. “I already messaged May and told her you’d be crashing here.”

“You did? Oh. Oh, that’s okay, I guess… I… uh… can sleep on the couch, Mr Stark. I feel bad taking your bed.”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter,” Tony smiled.

Peter only stared back at Tony, brows furrowed. It was the cutest thing Tony had ever seen – Peter, still probably pretty drunk, trying to formulate coherent thoughts.

“Go to sleep,” Tony repeated, a laugh in his voice. “You’re wasted.”

“No, I feel bad,” Peter said. “You can sleep in the bed too.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. _Say no. SAY NO. Refuse. Even if it’s all you want and more. _

“I can’t, Pete,” Tony sighed.

“Why not? It’s big enough.”

“It’s inappropriate,” Tony said. He could literally _hear_ the disappointment in his own voice.

“Inappropriate how?” Peter asked, looking all cute and confused again, and Tony could hardly take it any longer.

Maybe it _wasn’t _inappropriate in Peter’s mind, because Peter didn’t think of him in any way other than platonic. Maybe it would be _okay_ for Tony to sleep in the same bed as him, because Peter _wouldn’t _feel uncomfortable. Maybe Tony could get away with it…

But the alarms were all going off in his head. _He’s sixteen. He’s a teenager. He’s young enough to be your son._

“We’re both drunk and you’re a sixteen year old kid,” Tony muttered. “It wouldn’t look right if anyone saw us.”

Peter’s face reddened and Tony felt like kicking himself. He’d drawn attention to it. Why, _why_, had he felt it necessary to say that?

“Who’s going to see us?” Peter asked. “It doesn’t matter. Sleep on the couch if you want, I guess, but I’m just saying I don’t really mind if you want to sleep in your own bed.”

Peter turned to walk back towards the bedroom, and Tony found himself jumping up from the couch and following him. “On second thoughts, I could use a good night’s sleep,” Tony blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Knew it,” Peter said, and although Tony couldn’t see his face, he could hear the smile.

When they reached the bedroom, Peter climbed back into the bed but stayed closer to the left side, where he’d been in the middle of the bed before.

Tony decided he’d definitely be crossing a line if he got undressed and slept in his underwear like usual, so he settled for grabbing a pair of pyjamas, quickly changing in the bathroom and then he slowly climbed in the other side of the bed.

And boy, he knew he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. The electricity that seemed to be pulsing between their bodies was unignorable. It was all-consuming and it was driving Tony’s mind into overdrive. Surely Peter must be able to feel it too? Tony tossed and turned, trying to think of anything but how his pillow smelt like Peter and how if he rolled over, his erection would be pressed against Peter’s ass.

He closed his eyes. He was now achingly hard, and he knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Mr Stark?”

“Hm?”

There was a brief pause and Tony thought Peter had fallen asleep, but then he heard Peter’s quiet voice pipe up again. “I’m feeling really buzzed still.”

“You’re a lightweight,” Tony joked.

“Hey, it’s my first time,” Peter said defensively.

Of course that only turned Tony on more. His first time. _First time_. Tony thought about all the other firsts Peter surely hadn’t had yet. First kiss, first blowjob, first time getting fucked. Tony bit his lip and fisted his cock through the cotton of his pyjama pants. God, he felt so _filthy_, lying in bed with a sixteen year old kid who looked _up_ to him, and touching his cock while thinking of all the dirty things he wanted to do to the innocent boy. The fact that Peter was almost certainly a virgin was what drove Tony so crazy. He wanted to _take_ Peter’s virginity, for Peter’s only experience of sex to be with Tony…

“Mr Stark?”

“Hmm?” Tony murmured.

“Are you tired?” Peter asked.

“A little. You?”

“Kinda,” Peter said. “You just didn’t reply, that’s all.”

“Sorry, I was… thinking.”

“Oh.”

Silence. Tony’s hand was now under the band of his pants and he was jerking off as carefully as he could so as to not alert Peter to what was happening. He could tell his breathing was becoming ragged and he knew he was being reckless and idiotic but he couldn’t stop. The fact that Peter was lying next to him and could catch him at any second made it all the better.

“I’m sorry for getting so drunk tonight,” Peter whispered. “I don’t mean to be a burden. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed at the party… loads of new people I’d never met before…”

“It’s fine, Peter,” Tony replied, trying to keep his voice steading as he jerked his cock faster. “You’re never a burden.”

“Thanks, Mr Stark,” Peter said quietly. “Thanks for always being so good to me.”

Tony was so close to coming. Seconds away. “You’re welcome. You deserve it – you’re a good kid.”

“Aw, Mr Stark, don’t make me blush,” Peter joked, and that was about it for Tony.

He came with one final stroke, hot ropes of cum spilling all over his hand and into his pyjama pants. His breath was now erratic, and he was pretty sure Peter would know something was up, but his mind was so blissed out that at this point he really didn’t care.

It must have been a good few minutes before either of them spoke.

“Are you okay?” Peter finally asked.

“Yeah, just had a nightmare. It happens,” Tony lied, and Peter seemed to buy it.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Like I said, it happens. Anyway, we’d better sleep now, eh? It’s nearly 3am.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. 

“Goodnight, Peter.”

“Night,” Peter replied.

And Tony could feel himself drifting off. He was tired and relaxed and completely satiated after what had just happened. He still couldn’t believe what he’d done and he knew he’d be guilt-ridden in the morning, but for now he let himself smile and revel in the moment as his brain shut off for the night.

What Tony didn’t know was that the moment his breaths became light snores, Peter leaned over and picked his phone off the bedside table, turning the screen down to the dimmest lighting setting, and opened up his text messages. He clicked on Ned’s name and started typing, a huge grin on his face.

** _(03:05): Ned. It worked. Mr Stark thought I was drunk. He let me sleep in his bed. He said he loves me when he thought I was sleeping, and I got him to join me. I’M IN HIS BED AND HE’S SLEEPING NEXT TO ME. NED. SERIOUSLY. _ **

** _(03:06): NED._ **

** _(03:06): NED WAKE UP NOW._ **

** _(03:07): I’M FREAKING OUT HERE I’M IN TONY STARK’S BED!!!!!!_ **

**(03:09): Peter it’s 3am. **

** _(03:10): DID YOU NOT READ THAT I’M IN MR STARK’S BED?_ **

**(03:10): I did. Soooo… did you guys… ** **😉** **?**

** _(03:11): Of course not! I was too scared to say anything, even if I was “drunk”. But Ned… something did happen…_ **

**(03:12): What?**

** _(03:13): Prettty sure he wanked while he was lying next to me._ **

**(03:13): HE WHAT?**

** _(03:14): I’m going crazy here Ned. Mr Stark wanked in bed next to me. And did I mention he said “I love you”? dhfdhksfljdsgfaj NED _ **

**(03:16): Okay man, I’m gonna need all the details tomorrow but I’m so tired so I’m gonna go back to sleep now yeah?**

** _(03:17): Okay. Sure. AAAHHHHH._ **

**(03:18): Calm down! 😂 Goodnight.**

**_(03:20): Goodnight _😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍**


End file.
